Well, I'm nearing the end of To Kill a Mockingbird now. Only 40 pages to go - just who is Boo Radley? Ending a book elicits a strange feeling in me; I'm sad that it's near the end, but also mildy triumphant. Plus I only ever read thin books, so am enjoying the regularity with which I find myself finishing them.
However, at the moment, I'm quite scared. In fact, I'm a little terrified. I'm on an amazing run of 6 good books in a row. That's 6 new books I've finished and liked, and not one dud amongst them.
It all started this summer when I went to Portugal and read about 1000 pages over 5 days in the blissful sunshine on a sandy beach. (Ok so one of them was a Harry Potter...but it still counts).
I started by re-reading Harry Potter and The Half Blood Prince (in preparation for the 7th book), then finishing off My So Called Life by Joanna Nadin. Then I read The Boy Who Loved Books by John Sutherland and came home. By then Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows had launched, so I read that. Then I picked up a book my friend had given me for my birthday - Memories of My Melancholy Whores by Gabriel Garcia Marquez, a slender slip of a thing. Then I went to Paris and read Down and Out in Paris and London by George Orwell. I read the Parisian bits in Paris, and then moved to London and read the London bits. It's an excellent book, one of the best I've read. In a way it made me sad that Orwell eventually works his way out of poverty; you want him to remain in squalor so he can keep writing about it so insightfully.
And now I'm working my way through To Kill a Mockingbird after succumbing to the embarrassment that I seem to be the only person who hasn't read this book: 'you mean you never did it at school?' No, and I've never read any Jane Austen either.
But in saying that, it's very good, I love Scout, she's so funny.
But now I'm terrified my luck's about to end, and I'm gonna end up reading something that peters out like The Inheritance of Loss or Life and Times of Michael K, or god forbid The Turn of The Screw. God that was awful. I waited for something to happend until I was 20 pages from the end, then gave up.
I've been prying recommendations from everyone I meet, so any suggestions will be appreciated. I'm thinking of copping out and reading a Shakespeare play, at least I know that'll be a good read. Maybe Love's Labour's Lost. (I'll steer clear of Pericles; I've heard things). My flatmate suggested reading something trashy just to get it out of the way. My luck's about to run out sooner or later, but I don't wanna chicken out, so I'll think I'll risk it. I was thinking maybe Chinua Achebe's Thing's Fall Apart (good title). I was toying with the idea of buying one and getting one half price, perhaps Chimamanda Ngozie Adichie's Half of a Yellow Sun (nice cover) or The Kiterunner, or maybe Lord of the Flies. Three Men In A Boat by Jerome K Jerome also caught my eye the other day. The idea of a modern book sounds good (like Adichie or Hosseini), but I'm going for monumental 20th Century texts, stand alone titles that the author becomes known only for for examply The Catcher in the Rye, Mockingbird, Catch 22 etc. I quite like the idea of something dystopian as well, maybe 1984, or Brave New World. Orwell's served me well, so maybe Road To Wigan Peer might be next?
Fahrenheit 451 sits on my shelf staring at me; it's thin.
Stupid books, leave me alone.
2 comments:
"Pies and Prejudice: In Search of the North" by Stuart Maconie. He writes brilliantly, it's travel-writing at its best. I think it might be on a 3-for-2 at Waterstone's as well. That's my recommendation. And I guess I owe you one after you told me to read "Starter for Ten"....
Yeeeeeeah I got a mention in said blog. Mu ha haaaaa. How about "The Yage (pronounced Yahey) Letters" by Burroughs and Ginsbourg?? It's about drugs, you'll love it, and since it's by Burroughs it's a masterpiece!!! Love you - JJ x
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